Sex and Cigarettes
by EdenEight
Summary: A sole night and single wound give Yohji the time he needs to reflect on everything that's been happening, and maybe make something happen himself. Big Twist! Please R&R for me! :) One Shot


Sex and Cigarettes

By Divine Angel

Monday March 26th

There is a state of consciousness that lies between light drizzles, and heavy rain; hail, and snow. A state of consciousness that feels like your head in the morning right before you open your eyes, but when you're awake enough to know your going to open them. It's in this state of mind; you stop and think to yourself. 

One. 

It's just one stab wound. One stab wound.

The numbers so insignificant. One. Like nothing. Like a scrape on your knee, or a bump on the head. One. One isn't the sort of number that should stop you. One isn't the sort of number that should even be able you down. This is what you think about in this state of mind. In my state of mind. It's not like I am saying I am loosing consciousness. I am not, if I was, I wouldn't be able to think about actually loosing it. So that tells me, I haven't loss that much blood yet. I am conscious enough to know where I am. 

It's dark here. 

I am conscious enough to know what it smells like. 

It doesn't smell too well. It's a bathroom for Christ sake. A public, un-kept, shit hole, bathroom. 

I am conscious enough to know that I am bleeding. To know that I am not moving. To know I should be moving. 

I am conscious enough to hear them, and listening to them makes me think about my stab wound again. My One. Single. Stab wound.

The fact that I am bleeding feels a little exhausting. The fact that I am not moving is incredibly shameful, but it's really the fact that it's just one stab wound that gets me. It's not like I can yell to them when they come running. Help! I've been ripped to shreds!-I am barely conscious!-He had a gun! For as good a fighter as I am, and as good a fighter as I've always been. One stab wound has never stopped me; one stab wound has never slowed me down. Until this one.

I can almost feel Aya's ghost fingers on me now, tracing around, and where my gut has become my flesh. For that instant I talked to him about death, that one night it was raining, and he said _-It's amazing how the simplistic kills us.- _I know he was talking about his sister damnt, hell when isn't he talking about his sister. The fact that she's in a coma, it's so simple. A god damn coma, and it kills him. 

I watched him. Oh man did I watch him. Beautiful is not an adjective I often give to men; I tend to save it for the ladies. But really, *they* are beautiful. 

Aya was beautiful that night, because he didn't give a damn that I was there. Because he didn't give a damn he was thinking out loud, or that for one god damn second he might look human or might seem fragile. 

It was cold out the night I talked to him. Outside it was drizzling, not yet raining, and the soft light of reflecting wetness that shone in his window, hit him like heavens light on an angel. So I stood in his doorway and watched him, while he spoke to himself, and to me, about the simple facts of life, and how they were going to swallow us all hole. How each an every one of us suffer from one black and which, scribble it in a single sentence fact that drives us mad. 

He said that man is weak, and I know he is because I am a man. He says that man was born first; Adam, and therefore god had another second to reconsider the human being and take out the very last kinks before creating Eve. Eve the splendor, the woman, the perfect being. Man was first, like a prototype he said. Man cannot hide from his kinks, and because of this man will always suffer, because he cannot understand why he is suffering.

I frowned when Aya said this. I know why I am suffering. I know why Ken is suffering. I know why Omi's suffering. I know why Aya's suffering. I can scribble it in four sentences. I can paint it black and white. Betrayal, abandonment, remorse, and loneliness. Really I am alone. They don't know it, but I am. I am pretty good at keeping secrets, and even better at living lies. I'd like to commemorate myself you know, and give myself a big pat on the back for how well I do it, but really Omi's beat me. Ken doesn't think so. Aya doesn't know so. Only I know, and only because of the lie that I live do I know this.

Every night I leave, and every morning I come home. When I go, Ken rolls his eyes, and Omi avoids eye contact, while Aya gets in my face. They all know I am going out to party, they all know I am going out to drink, and they all know I am going out for some really great, hot sex. Or so they think. I keep my virginity in my back pocket. Right above my lucky key chain and under my package of cigarettes. It's amazing I haven't lost it yet, considering how often I reach for a cigarette. Wouldn't they think it was funny if they found out I only drank to forget. Wouldn't they think it was funny if they found out I am great with sweet-talking, but I am crying inside because none of it means a damn. Wouldn't they think it was funny if they knew this was a little act I was putting on just for them. Yeah. They'd probably think that was as funny as my one stab wound. My Single. One. Stab wound. The one that's leaking blood down over my hip, and killing my intestines. It's only one cut, and yet I can't move. It's only one cut and yet I can still think. It's only one cut and yet I know just what expressions I'll get from them when they find me. 

Omi will be immediately horrified with the idea I am bleeding. The chibi always is. Ironically, Omi is never upset when he is the one bleeding, and even less upset when he's inflicted it himself. Late at night when I come home the bandages will be there. It was like he was in his own little world when I barged in on him. In the bathroom. At three in the morning. Puking.

__

"It smells gross in here." Those were the only words I said to him, and I look back at them with a wide smile, and cigarette burning from my lips. I swung the door in, a little wide eyed and concerned because I heard him gagging. He just looked at me calmly, as he pulled the finger from his throat and stood up. That's when I said the famous words. _"It smells gross in here." _Really what I should have said eludes me. As does a lot of things, but that's ok because I gave him exactly what he expected, a Yohji Kudou sentence. 

When he walked by me, and picked the bandage up off the sink and pressed it to the cut that now ran up his arm, I didn't say anything to that either. I had disturbed him, and he was done for the night. Even I knew that much, and I am Yohji Kudou after all. He walked silently back to his room, and I followed like a camera in a movie. My existence, and my presence had no opinion. I never asked why he was forcing himself to throw up. I never asked why he was cutting himself. I just watched him walk to his room and lie down on his bed with his back to me. It was drizzling outside, not yet raining. Three in the morning. I had just come home.

Omi never said a word to me. Though I am sure my words are burned in his mind. He never said a word to me, when I looked back at him with my casual expression when he pulled his slimy finger from his throat, or taped the bandage to his arm. He never said a word to me when I walked into his room after he had lay down, and he never said a word to me when I lay down next to him. It was drizzling outside, not yet raining and I could hear the gentle drops hit the window every few seconds. Nine of them had hit before Omi rolled to me and wrapped his arms around my chest. He never said a word to me, and when I woke up, he was already gone.

I can see Ken's face already above me too, when they find me like this. The man's a class act. The only one who wears his scars on his sleeve for us all to see. For us all to know about, and not intentionally either. It's Ken's way, it's what he is, and that's why I know I'll get a baffled frown when he sees me. Because I only have one stab wound, and what kind of man goes down with one stab wound? Certainly not Yohji Kudou.

Ken's a class act all right, suffers from betrayal. The kind that see-saws between hate, guilt, and pity. All three of them he plays to everything and himself. He hates what happens in the world, all the killing, and hates himself for contributing to it. He sees that killing is the only way, that the people feel no guilt and so he kills them anyway. His sins make him feel guilty, and he weeps over the fact, he feels guilty for killing, but not guilty for killing the individuals he's killed. He pity's himself this way, himself and the rest of the world. Ken's a class act. Like Omi. Not as secretive, because he bears all three tears on his sleeve. Where we live, how we live, it's what you do, when Ken starts up. You just let him go, let him run his course, because, that's what Ken does. I think I've even heard Aya phrase it like that. "_Ken's acting up again Yohji." _That's what he said when I came home one day, and that's all I knew until Omi added that he had been crying extremely hard, and I knew the kid would be throwing up tonight alright. 

Omi's obsession with Ken, lesson one. Ken is a god. End of lesson. 

Ken doesn't know this of couirse. In fact I honestly know that Ken has no idea his little fit could ever result in Omi trying to alter his body all the faster that night in the wee hours of the morning. No, not Ken. Ken who will cry for hours, or break into fits of rage. He's the one responsible for smashing up our coffee table, telephone, coffee pot, left bottom cabinet, endless plants, and the upstairs linen closet door. He's also the one responsible for the hours upon hours of silence that washes over where we live. That day I came home, and Aya let me know he was upset, and Omi added his two cents, we didn't speak again for about three hours. We just don't talk when Ken does his thing. When he simply can't cope and just breaks down for a little while. Afterwards he always apologies, and afterwards we always forgive him. Afterwards he goes to bed feeling better, and more relaxed, and Omi does his thing, and I go out, and Aya disappears. All this happens afterwards. Ken never means any harm he has a good heart. Maybe that's why Omi's so fascinated with him.

Aya's the one who's going to yell at me when he finds me. Aya's the one who will sneer into my face when they try and pull me out of here. Good ol' stick it to you Aya. Leader of our group. Master of solitude. I'll kill you with my eyes, red head, whom women adore and I admire, Ken's afraid of and Omi desires attention from. Aya who gives you two words, and expects them to carry the morning. Another two for lunch, and another two for dinner and we're all well fed, he's done his part and can disappear. I would really believe this were true if I didn't see him that one night. That night it was cold out, and not yet raining. When he was talking, just talking, and didn't give a shit if I heard, what I thought about it, and would never acknowledge it again. Aya is really like that, he doesn't give a shit, and yet…he cares more about us than anyone else.

__

"Aya?" The night after I slept in Omi's bed, with him as close as he could get himself I went to Aya. Aya is the core of the building and us. Even if it's none of his business you get an itch you should inform Aya or else you're not doing what you're supposed to. "_Aya?" _I stood in his doorway and waited for him to look up at me. "_Omi was throwing up last night_" I said, my face a casual expression, cigarette between my lips.

__

-Again?- I remember his answer was a surprise to me. To me, not to Yohji Kudou whose face was casual, and who's cigarette smoke danced about his features as it rose. I don't believe Aya knows what I know about Omi. I don't believe he knows that half of it. But I also don't believe Aya's stupid, and I know he's noticed all the little cuts. They can't all be from battle. One of the reasons I felt comfortable saying something to Aya in the first place is because he is so acute, I knew he would have realized. I just never expected him to really have thought about it. I never expected him to know Omi did it frequently. I never expected him to say- Again?- with the tone he did.

__

"Yeah." was my reply, casual and calm, and he said nothing, nor did he move. Red hair still amongst his features, sharp eyes half mass and cast towards the floor. Strong defined body, sitting, edge of his bed, slumped in exhaustion and comfort.

__

"Take the razors from the bathroom" Was all he had to say.

I almost wish I had a knife myself, so I could at least slash my chest a bit. Nothing too serious, I just can't stand I am lying here with one stab wound. Every time I say it, it's more disgusting. It's more shameful. I don't care they'll rush to my fallen form with their individual masked faces of concern. Though Omi will wear his outright, no ones ever cared. Ken will roll his eyes a bit, make a light comment, Aya will curse me for being lazy, and not paying attention. It's obviously my fault I was stabbed, or it will be in Aya's book. I won't wear my casual grin though, I won't wiggle my cigarette when I chuckle up at them and agree with Aya or make some smooth comment. I can't do it. I can't do it tonight. I could if I had lost my arm. I could if I had a bullet lodged in me somewhere. I could if I had been injured anywhere as near as my reputation places me! But I am not. This stupid gut job just had to be in one of the places Aya had ran his fingers. Over one of the black and white, simplest places on a human. The places you hit, and it all ends. I can feel the tickle over my jugulars now, even though Aya's no longer touching me. I just remember it too clearly, because he was talking that night. Right where he sat by the window, the light from outside making him look beautiful. It was a cold night, and it was almost raining. I was standing in his doorway.

The fact that I was only stabbed once, no matter where it's located leaves me feeling like I am waiting to be caught. Like I am a child again, and soon mom's going to find out I've done something wrong and be pissed. It's anxiety, and self-consciousness, and shame. I can feel all these things, so I know I am not passing out. I'd feel better if I were passing out. I'd feel like Yohji Kudou the philosophizer. Yohji Kudou the detective. Yohji Kudou the acutely aware. The only one who knows that dare I walk into either of their rooms and lay down beside them, they'll turn to me and lay close and still like Omi. Even Aya. Though he may put up thee most fight I think I could handle it. No amount of low sneered swearing, or threatening will effect me, because my parts relatively easy. All I have to do is walk in, lay down, and wait. Wait for the temptation to be comforted for just a night…for just one single night to sink in. Wait for it to grow and fester like all of our wounds. Like all of Ken's guilt, and pity, and hate. Like all of Omi's cuts, and Aya's fear. Just wait for the temptation to breed itself like a virus, like one more rapping at our door to taunts us. Then they'll make they're move. In one soft, graceful swoop like Omi did. We're not called assassins for nothing. They'll close in, they're hands will glide around me. I'll feel they're breath on my skin, their heart through my body, and I'll lay there. The mother of temptation. The sole comforter. Yohji Kudou. If I were going unconscious, maybe I could feel like the mother of temptation now. That would at least be fun.

"YOhJI!"

I don't bother to move or answer when I hear one of them scream my name.

"Yohji! YOHJI!" Ken's barking at me.

"YOhJI-KUN! Aya-Kun DO SOMETHING!"

"Don't move Yohji. It's going to be fine." Aya says, in his normal firm voice. I can just imagine how he's biting his tongue, waiting till at least some of the blood is mopped up before he yells at me. I can't believe he's waiting.

I don't answer any of them. I don't think I can do it tonight.

I do it all for them. I even do it for kritiker. Don't you know that everyone feels safer when they think they know what your doing. When they think they know you so well. I used to feel safer like this too. Like I could make myself into what I am not. Like I could do this so well, I would believe and be happy. I never tried to carve myself into it like Omi. I never tried to argue my way there like Ken. I never tried to hide from it like Aya. I simply tried to make it. Lies. That's what I am. Yohji Kudou the liar. Yohji Kudou the fraud. Yohji Kudou, master of disguise. Yohji Kudou the man who's burred himself too well. So well he doesn't know where exactly he's buried himself anymore. So, really I am Yohji Kudou the lost. That's why I said earlier, I am lonely. How can you possibly have another person if you can't even have yourself.

They're giving me gas now. I can finally feel my mind slipping. It feels good. I am sick and tired of the way things are going. And I am sick and tired of the way things are. If they give me enough gas, I might just wake up and rock the boat tomorrow. If they give me enough drugs, I might just say what needs to be said. If they give me enough spirit, I just might tell everyone, what they need to hear. Tomorrow is when I would do all this; they're giving me gas now. It feels good. I can feel my mentality slipping. I can feel myself falling unconscious. It feels good.

Thursday April18th

"Omi?" I call through his door. It's always shut now. Since that night, everyone's been different. The minute he hears my voice I can tell he's stiffened from inside his bedroom, but I am not waiting. I am finally better. I finally feel like I can talk to him now. Tonight is the night. "Omi? It's me damnt. Are you just planning on ignoring me." I demand, slouching into the wood frame the locks the boy from me.

"Go-go away Yohji-kun…please." He whimpers, but I hear him so clearly.

"Go away?" I sigh his request back to him. "Omi darling, chibi listen to me. Hell, listen to someone and open this door." I argue.

"PLEASE!" He snaps, his voice strained and fragile and Ken pokes his head from his door and glances over a bit concerned with the tone.

"Omi you alright?" Ken calls gently, I give him a reassuring smile but he ignores it. Typical. When Ken focuses on Omi, he sees nothing else. To bad Omi couldn't imitate the action, then at least the boy wouldn't be playing in the bathroom all night long, which reminds me why I bothered to come talk to him.

"Omi." I whisper this time; I don't need Ken screaming at me for getting the boy all upset. "Omi, come on. Please open up." I whisper, and I hear him move slightly. He's lying on his bed, facing away from me. I've slumped into his door waiting. Somehow I am always waiting in my existence. Waiting for love, waiting for patience, waiting to hit it big and find everything I am missing. One day I'll get there. Right now I am talking to Omi. Right now I have something to say.

"I am going to open my door." Omi whispers from inside and I stand up. As soon as he hears me move, he whimpers a little more.

"It's important chibi." I quickly state, hoping to appease his tense muscles. "I wouldn't bother if it wasn't."

"Please don't scare me Yohji-kun." I hear him breath as he slowly starts turning the handle from the other side.

"I am not going to scare you." I chuckle. "That's Ken's job." It's a rather odd request, but none of us can forget that one time Ken was raving. It was just one time, and Omi kept trying and kept trying to comfort him. Ken finally got too pissed. He finally took that one step he always threatened to take and never did. He was just too pissed. He only took one step. That one step shoved Omi just a tad too hard. Ken's a class act. He's got some muscles on him, and a good heart. That's probably why Omi's fascinated with him. Omi was never hurt, just shaken badly. He didn't fall too far, just a few stairs, but the look in his eyes. It's a look I know appears in the bathroom mirror late at night. Around three o'clock when it gets cold and damp. When it's just drizzling, but not yet raining. When you feel like your eyes are fully closed, but really they're half open. "Yohji-kun?" He peeks out, one single blue eye and his face stiffens when he sees me standing there. "W-what do you want." He demands in a whisper, low and anxious for me to let him be. To let him think.

"Just to talk." I say quickly, with a gently shrug. "You don't want to get Ken upset now do you?" I smile throwing a thumb over my shoulder towards Ken's room. "He hates it when you yell. I think he's on my side." I joke, but Omi ignores it and opens the door a little more, enough for me to come in before shutting it and standing there. "I need to talk to you Omi." I say gently, sitting down on the side of his bed and gazing back at those big blue eyes. He's so tense. So hurt. Underneath the sleeves of his shirt, I know there are bandages. I never understood why he wasn't clever enough to try aiming for his stomach first. Anything we see less, considering he normally wears t-shirts. He seems to have a fascination with his arms though. Late at night when it gets cold. About three in the morning, in the bathroom.

"I am sorry." He quickly whispers, his eyes falling to the floor. He knows I know. Hell I saw him.

"Don't be sorry chibi." I smile back, I remember the fact he cut himself used to bother me more, this must be one of my good days. I have those every once in a while. When I loose myself so well, I can't even find enough pieces to start a day. It's like starting fresh, so many worries and problems are lost in my missing pieces. I am at peace. I feel as though I have all the power I will ever need to say what I need to say. I feel as though someone's helping me. Insane isn't it, there isn't anyone around to help Yohji Kudou. This just must be one of my good days. A day I've just lost too many pieces. I know this is one of them, because I've worked myself up enough to talk to Omi. And he always cares. Sometimes I wish, for just a second he could be more like Aya and not give a shit. Then I wouldn't worry about what my words could do to him. But, only for a second.

"I am. I am so sorry." He repeats, but he won't look at me.

"Omi. You can't do this. You can't do this to yourself. Do you understand?" I whisper, and he stiffens further, his body going up like a board in front of me.

"You see me?" He asks.

"Of coarse I see you." I spit. "I saw you that night, or have you chosen to forgotten."

"Oh god." He chokes those words out suddenly and I stand up. "YOhji-kUN!" He takes a fast few steps back, throwing a hand up as though to ward me off. "Please! Please…just…please." He begs, but I stand there and give him a Yohji Kudou face. A casual smile spreading on my features, a cigarette between my lips.

"Why do you do it?" I ask calmly, and I can't believe I am saying this to him. I can't believe I am talking to him like this. Like I am Aya. Like I just don't give a shit, my words are falling from my tongue. Falling from my mouth. We're both in his room, standing. He won't look at me unless I move. "Why do you do it Omi?" I ask again and he struggles to swallow before shrugging gently. "For Ken?"

"I don't know." He quickly spits, shaking his head slightly.

"For me?" I ask, and I know if he says yes I'll run mad.

"No. Yes. No. I am sorry Yohji-kun. I am just So Sorry!" He yells a bit again and I shift my weight. I know Ken's going to start paying attention to us soon if he keeps this up. "I-I like the way…it feels." he finally answers. "Like someone touching me. Like someone I know touching me, and…I feel it afterwards. Reminds me of…what it's like to be…warm…what…" He's starting to babble and I am starting to frown. He's starting to cry, and I wiggle the cigarette between my teeth. "I-I…when I am hurt, they notice. They say, what's wrong, pay attention to me. Look at me when I am hurt. When I am…important?" He looks up a bit now, to see my face, and he relaxes because I look just like Yohji Kudou should. Relaxed. Cunning. Supportive. "Oh Yohji-kun." He breaths my name out and I raise my eyebrows a bit to answer him. "I miss this. I miss talking to you." He whines, wiping some tears from his eyes shakily.

"It's alright. I didn't realize it's been so long since I talked to you." I answer, with a gentle shrug. I take a step forward, and he takes one back. I can feel the damp air from outside starting to grow. Spreading up the outside of the shop, and the windows of our home. Latching ghostly fingers into every crack, and making it feel cold. It's going to rain soon, but it's not raining yet. "I have to tell you something Omi." I say.

"I-I know you d-do Yohji-kun. Wh-what is it." He asks bluntly, staring at me now.

"You can't cut yourself anymore." I say simply and he doesn't answer. "You can't hurt yourself anymore." I continue. "You can't wish you were something else. Anymore." I finish, nodding slightly. "Tell me that you won't." I ask.

"I-I-I." He starts stuttering, condensation is building on his windows.

"Tell me that you won't." I repeat and he nods instantly. Instantly he answers me. Yohji Kudou the mother of temptation. The sole supporter.

"Oh-Yohhjii-kuuun." The tears come back in a whine.

"I have something else to tell you." I continue. I don't have time for him to cry now. It's going to rain soon. I can feel it in my bones. I don't want to talk when it's raining. I don't want to be here when it's raining. I remember Aya talking that night, when it was drizzling outside, getting cold. I remember Ken crying that night, when the drops were almost falling. I remember Omi, pressing himself to me, eyes closed, wanting comfort, when the drops were hitting the panes. "Ken needs your help." I say to him softly, and I see his mind instantly press the record button. Ken is still more important to him than himself. "Don't let him cry anymore Omi."

"Cry?" He whispers. Tears temporarily silenced with contemplation.

"Don't let him feel so bad it bottles the way it does." I state and he's nodding his head yes, with eyes that shine like the water that's going to fall from the sky. It's not raining yet. It's not even drizzling, but condensation is building on his windows. "I'll tell Aya what I have to say, myself." I suddenly spit. I was going to tell Omi. I was going to say Omi. Omi. Don't let Aya be alone. Don't let Aya talk to no one. Don't let Aya get away with only two words. Make him give a shit Omi. Omi. Omi? Omi. Talk to Aya, like you want to be talked to. 

"W-why? Wh-why!? Yohji-kun?" He suddenly spits, as though I've insulted him to his face with my decision. But I am Yohji Kudou. I give him a lanky smile, and a wink. I am Yohji Kudou master of disguise. Yohji Kudou the man who's lost himself.

"I want to tell him." I say blankly. "I think it will be better if he hears if from me." I say, and Omi looks shaken by this.

"Y-Your going to t-talk to Aya-kun? Yohji-kun?" He asks, his voice fading to a whisper, as he backs up to his door, as though to let me out. He can't believe I am saying this, and I can tell. He can't believe I am going to say what I want said to Aya's face. Aya never believes him I tell him half of what I do, and I can sense that from him too. Aya doesn't believe I even ever talk to Omi.

"Yes." I nod. "If you understand what I've said to you. I have a date tonight Omi." I give him another Yohji Kudou wink. "I have places to be. I don't want to be late, how do you think my friends would feel." He's listening to me still, with those raindrop eyes fixed on me like he's never seen anything like me before. He's so beautiful, but I know he's thinking the same about me. He's always envied my hair; I've always envied him. "You do understand what I've said." He nods. "Good. It means a lot to me Chibi." I smile. This isn't a Yohji Kudou smile, it's real, and for a moment he smiles back. For a moment the cuts on his arms disappear. The pain in his heart is silenced. I am at peace, and so is he, for just that small moment.

Condensation has consumed his window completely. It's going to rain soon. It's almost drizzling.

"Good night Yohji-kun." He whispers to me, as I start towards the door he opens.

"Night Chibi." I chuckle, strolling into the hallway.

"Wi.." He starts to speak, but trails, and I stop and turn to him. "W-will you be ok?"

"Of course." I snort, wiggling my cigarette. "I am Yohji Kudou Omi. Nothing bad could ever happen to me." I wink, before leaving him as I walk directly to Aya's room. Aya's door is closed; I think I'll open it.

I grasp the handle, and it's cool from the damp air. I can almost hear the soft patter of rain against the roof, but it's not quite here yet. It's not quite drizzling. Behind me I hear Omi walk to Ken's room and gently slip inside the moment I open Aya's door.

There he is. I stop when I see him. I just watch him. Oh man do I watch him. He's in front of the window again, and the light from the wetness outside falls onto him like heavens light on an angel. "Aya." He turns to me the instant I say his name. I hear the first raindrop fall. "Aya." I say his name again, just so he knows I am really talking to him. Just so he knows what I am going to say is important. All around me is the gentle patter of the water now. It's drizzling outside, not yet raining. I am standing in his doorway, feeling the night air. "Don't be afraid Aya." I say, a lanky grin spreading over my face. His features tighten, glaring at me as though he hopes I choke on those words, but his eyes betray him. He's adapting the night rain now. The night drizzle. Filling those brilliant violet orbs with dew. "There's nothing to fear after all. Everyone lives. Don't be afraid." I say, firmly, confidently, and my cigarette moves each time I speak. Around my features, smoke dances as I take a step back. "I have a date tonight." I inform. "Don't want to be late." I chuckle, offering him a sly solute as I leave his doorway. The night air will give me shivers soon. I can feel that it's damp. I can feel that it's cold. It's drizzling outside. Not yet raining.

"Yohji." He spits my name as I turn for the stairs. He wants to talk to me now. Now, out of every night he's found something to say but I can't stay. It's going to start raining. I've already told Omi what I need to, he'll know to talk to Aya. "Yohji!" He yells at me when I don't answer but I offer him a Yohji Kudou wink.

"You're going to make me late." I smile, and start down the stairs as Ken bursts out of his room dragging Omi along. The boys crying heavily, the sobs that had been muffled into the pillows of Ken's bed released. I am in trouble now. I've made Omi cry. I've made Aya come so close. 

I'd love to stay and chit chat, but I have a date. It's important. It's going to start raining.

"Ken-Kun! PLEASE!" Omi screams at Ken who bursts into Aya's room as I slip out the shop doors. "Ken-KUN!"

"What ELSE DID HE SAY TO YOU!" Ken demands, grabbing Omi's shoulders and silencing the boy's sobs for just a second.

"Pleeeease Keeen-Kuuun." Omi whines, as Ken's eyes finally wash over with dew. He can hear the rain start to fall. They can all hear the rain start to fall. The night air is cold, and damp. "Plleeease dooon't cry." Omi suddenly sobs, as Ken slowly turns to Aya, as though for reinforcement, but the red head says nothing.

"Well." Ken spits firmly, ignoring the pink tightness to his eyes. "Say something to him Aya." Ken demands. He's hoping the Aya will back him up. Hoping that Aya will take his side, like he always does. Like he always agrees, it's preposterous. "Say Something!" Ken yells when Aya's silent. Standing there, listening to the rain and Omi's tears. He's thinking to himself, that maybe it's time to care. Maybe it's time to say something. He's so close to speaking it kills me. He's almost there. The rain is finally coming down; condensation has eaten all our glass. "Aya DamNT!" Ken barks before turning to Omi and shaking the boy who only cries. "It's not possible Omi." Ken hisses, storming to his room. "It's Preposterous!" From outside I see him fling the window open and look out. Idiot, I think to myself, ducking my cigarette from the drops. The rain is finally coming down.

"YOHJI!" He screams for me, but I glance at my watch and keep going. I have a date. Can't be late. 

"KEN!KUN!" Omi yells, and Ken stops, silencing completely with how loud the young boy became. "Yohji-Kun said. To not let you cry…to not…to not…my…I have something…to-t-to tell you…about-something I-I-I do." Omi suddenly starts whispering, relaxing slightly as Aya lays a hand on his shoulder.

"Omi." Ken starts as though scolding.

"Yohji-kun said I have to do this. I can't do it anymore." Omi babbles.

"Omi. Say something to him AyA! TELL HIM!" Ken barks, pointing at Omi when Aya's silent. The red head won't say anything because I talked to him tonight. I said what I had to say because it was unfair to leave it all for Omi when I had to run out.

I glance back over my shoulder and snort at the window that's still open. I am almost there. It's damp out. Cold, but the rains not that hard yet. I have one more second, but I am going to make it because I left on time. If I didn't I would have been late. I make it, and slip inside, out of the rain just as Ken slowly walks to Omi's side and licks his lips. Inside where I am going, it's getting warm. It never rains inside obviously. I put on my best Yohji Kudou smile, cigarette between my teeth, smoke dancing amongst my features. It's going to be a great night. 

I never hear Ken's last words. I never knew what was so hard for him to say that night, but that's all right. Something's elude me. There's really not that much I can do about it. I am Yohji Kudou after all. 

"Yohji's dead Omi." Ken whispers. "He died last month. He's dead."

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Yay! ^_~ Hope you all liked it! It is a one-shot, so that's all! Please remember to leave a review for me, and obviously, as a disclaimer I don't own Weiss.(That goes for all my weiss pieces as well because I never remember to put Disclaimers on them!) *Sniffles* Ja ne!


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